Song Page - Lyrify.me

Lyrify.me

Bread Winnners by Roscoe Dash Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2017

[Roscoe Dash 2.0]
Money, money, money, money, money, money
Money, money, twenties, fifties, hundreds, hundreds
Money, money, money, money, money, money
Money, money, twenties, fifties, hundreds, hundreds
Money, money, money, money, money, money

Money, money, twenties, fifties, hundreds, hundreds
Money, money, money, money, money, money
Money, money, twenties, fifties, hundreds, hundreds

[Verse 1 - Roscoe Dash 2.0 & JasonTheKid]
Wait, my head spinning
BSOP, that's bread spending
They pay admission just to pay attention
I stay with pictures like they prescription
Pray too for me, I pop them all
Usually I don't stop at all
We got bottles up and I need a cup
I got bitches all on my cock and balls
That's crazy, ain't it?
MTV made we famous
Got more bitches than a gay parade
And might change my name
When I would say so, mean it
Bitch, what my name is?
Dummy, bout to go and cop some shit with this money
Free falling, we balling, we get those stalks and jacks with that honey
Through the four lanes at play, boy, bunny
I wanna get drunk and play more for me
JTK done crashed his bass so I had more seats (?)
Bakery (?)
Baby, please make a scene
Can't you see I got ancient fees
I could take a leak, look at all the bread that it's making me
[Hook - Roscoe Dash 2.0]
Bread winners, all this bread that bread give us
All this dough, every day is Christmas
Shut it down, they can't stay in business
Bread winners, picked up and eleven
All these girls, they head givers
They play with us, oh

Money, money, money, money, money, money
Money, money, twenties, fifties, hundreds, hundreds
I spend it
Motherfucker, I get it
Money, money, money, money, money, money
Money, money, twenties, fifties, hundreds, hundreds
Motherfucker, I spend it, ran with it
Shut it down and can't stamp in it

[Verse 2 - Roscoe Dash 2.0 & JasonTheKid]
Watch this go off
All these girls with they clothes off
My other girls gonna let me know
When she's pulling off, that's a close call
You know it's fall when them dollars fall
And I dream of genie, Taj Mahal
Chick, private charter, Niagara Falls
Mick Jagger devil, hit and all
Grab my team like I'm lifting weight
Pop a bottle in this bitch ace
So many fucking vixens on this shit, who's this kid
Since (?)
Got the whole world wishing that they knew our king, damn
Money ball like Brad Pitt
Money call, I pick up, I ain't never had shit
Got this, now I really gotta have that shit
Gotta get cash, stack it and that's it
Pull that weight, mula be, the only thing motherfucker wanna do like we
Two songs and you maufaucker threw like (?)
Now you niggas ain't getting no money, bitch
Nigga, my'weed strong, roll it
We gonna be on, you know it
JTK go, own it, sounds so special, nigga done it
So full of myself, need to throw up
Go nuts, snap whenever that beat comes on
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you
I'm out, leave me alone
[Hook - Roscoe Dash 2.0]
Bread winners, all this bread that bread give us
All this dough, every day is Christmas
Shut it down, they can't stay in business
Bread winners, picked up and eleven
All these girls, they head givers
They play with us, oh

Money, money, money, money, money, money
Money, money, twenties, fifties, hundreds, hundreds
I spend it
Motherfucker, I get it
Money, money, money, money, money, money
Money, money, twenties, fifties, hundreds, hundreds
Motherfucker, I spend it, ran with it
Shut it down and can't stamp in it

Money, money, money, money, money, money
Money, money, twenties, fifties, hundreds, hundreds
Money, money, money, money, money, money
Money, money, twenties, fifties, hundreds, hundreds